Borzoi's Return
by ChaosRenewed
Summary: Will Marche and his clan be able to stop an incredible force from destroying all of Ivalice? Only time will tell....
1. Prelude: The Beginning of the End

**Prelude: The Beginning of the End**

* * *

_A man was seated in a golden throne at the end of a long chamber. Torches that lined the columns of the long chamber barely illuminated the room giving it a sense of dread. Elite gaurdes were stationed at the entrance of the door, next to each column,and by the mans side. If anything that was unidentified entered the room it would be immediatly destroyed. Authorization codes were updated hourly, and if anybody hesitated with a correct response for even a second, it too would meet its inevitable destruction._

_There was a knock at the door and the man raised his hand, the signal to let them in, and tall man clad in a full uniform of black armor walked down the aisles with all the elite gaurds watching him with unmoving eyes. The man had his right hand rested on the hilt of his blade. As he reached the end of the chamber he knelt down on his left knee and placed his right forarm on his right leg. _

_"Your excellency."_

_A ragged voice echoed from the darkness of the throne sending chills through the mans body. His eyes glowed with the feeling of death lingering on them. _

_"Is the fleet ready for combat." He said. His eyes glowed an intense yellow and didn't let up. It was almost as if he wanted the man to let up and panic._

"_Yes sir, everyone is ready and accounted for." The man said. He lowered his head even further, trying not to catch the gaze of the Hierarch. "We have ten command ships and seven frigates ready to leave at you command, you excellency. Each are filled with enough rations and soldiers to capture the city ten times over."_

"_Good, prepare the ranks and get ready to sail to Muscadet. We attack at dawn."_

"_Yes, mi'lord." The man stood up and bowed. The man on the throne nodded his head slightly signaling the man that he could leave. He turned around and started to walk out the door. He sighed with relief that he was out of the room. _

_The man on the throne put his hands together letting his fingertips touch. He let out a menacing grin and his eyes blazed with the intensity of the sun. _

_"Now nothing can stop me. I will take Muscadet. I will burn it to the ground. Nothing can stop us. I will have Ivalice."_


	2. Chapter 1: Bad News

Chapter 1: Bad News 

The sun shone down brightly on the streets of Bervenia city making it look like paths of intertwining gold next to the stone houses. People walked down the streets past the merchants that were selling their cheap, but sometimes reliable, goods. Some were laughing, some arguing, some just simply enjoying the weather.

Marche walked down the street with his sword at his side. He chose not to wear his Judge armor, seeing as it was a casual time. The clan wars were over. This year's winner was the new up and coming team Doned Faction. His brother's team was always one of the top contenders in the 'War of the Clans,' but they never actually won it.

Marche walked toward a house belonging to his friend and former clan-member, Pallanza. In his old clan, Pallanza was a beacon of strength and aggressiveness. In their engagements he would always rush headfirst into the fight with a mad fury. He was truly a powerful ally.

Marche knocked on the door and a voice came from inside. "Come in!"

Hewalked in and saw his friend sitting at a table. "Well, if it issn't Marche! How've you been?" He said as he stood up and walked over to him. They clasped hands and then slammed their shoulders together.

"Pretty good, you?" Marche asked.

"Not to bad myssself," Pallanza said as he let out a chuckle. "Hey, I jusst got in sssome new equipment. Want to take a look?" He said as he pointed to a room behind him with his thumb.

"Sure, what the hell," Marche said. He followed his friend into what he assumed was his den. Pallanza walked over to a corner and picked up a red broadsword that had a yellow tint around the edge of the blade.

"Check thiss out," Pallanza said as he walked over to the window. "The guy I bought it from told me it had an attribute of lightning inside it." He held the sword up into the sunlight and Marche saw little yellow sparks flying through the inside of it.

He let out a low whistle. "That's something, huh? It's amazing what a little magic can do."

"Tell me about it. Thisss little baby cossst me ten thousssand gil." He said. He ran his finger on the edge of it and then set it back in the corner and turned to Marche. "Well, iss there a reasson for your vissit or did you jusst want to sssee me?" He said with a grin.

Marche let out a small laugh and looked at Pallanza. "Nice to see you still got a sense of humor. Nah, I just wanted to see if you wanted to get a drink down at the pub."

"Well, I got nothin' elsse to do. Sssure, let'ss go."

They walked out of the house and strolled down the street. There were people outside the pub eating food at the tables that were set outside. They walked into the pub and sat down. The bartender walked up while he was drying a mug.

"Well if it isn't Marche," He said. "How you been?"

"Pretty good." He looked at the menu. "I'll have the special with a root beer."

"I'll have the Coeurl combo with beer." Pallanza said to the bartender.

"One special with a root beer and a Coeurl combo with a beer, comin' up."

"Thanks Ryan." Marche said.

"No prob," He said

"Hey, there any new rumors going around?" Marche asked him.

"Yes, as a matter of fact," Ryan finished pouring their drinks and handed them to the two.

"Thanksss," Pallanza said as he grabbed the beer from Ryan's hand and took a quick sip. "Is there any that would interest us?"

"Not to many," He said. "There are a few going around that people are poaching Marlboros."

"Yeah, I heard about that. I sent Cheney on the mission about a week ago. He found out that there weren't actually any poachers. It was just some nobles that managed to pay the very high price tag in order to hunt them."

"I hear thossse thingsss cost about 500,000 gil a piessse." Pallanza said as he took another swig of his beer.

"Yeah, well, you can cross that off your list," Marche said.

"Alright," Ryan said. "Thanks."

"Anything elsse?" Pallanza asked. A waiter handed them their food and he picked up a slab of meat and started mowing it down with his fangs.

"Yeah, there's one going around that some sailors were attacked by a foreign vessel."

"Was it big?" Marche asked. He took a drink of his soda.

"Doesn't say, but there's another going around that there were a lot of them."

"Did you find out how many?" Pallanza asked. He took another bite of his food and then took a swig of beer.

"The rumors are that there are about twenty-five of them. But then again it is a rumor," He said.

"Yeah, well, I'll still have to check it out." Marche said. He put a gil on the table, "Can I get a refill?"

"Yup," Ryan grabbed his mug and brought it to barrel. He put the mug under a nozzle and twisted it. The drink started pouring into the cup. He twisted it closed and handed it back to him. "Here you go."

"Thanks," He said.

"Hey Martha!" Ryan yelled.

"Yes?" A blond haired Viera peeked around the corner.

"Can you get the mail for me?"

"Will do." She walked to the back and came back about a minute later with a basket full of letters. Ryan poked through them and saw one that caught his eye. He lifted it up and looked at it for a second. "Well cover me in shit and roll me in bread crumbs." He scratched his head. "This one is addressed specifically for you." He said as he handed the letter to Marche.

"Really?" Marche put his fork down and grabbed the letter. It read:

_Judge Marche,_

_We have recently discovered what looks like a beginning invasion force coming in from the foreign lands of Terna. We have a battalion of archers covering our walls, but we only have so many front line warriors. We need reinforcements if we are to be prepared for what could very well be the beginning battle of a war._

_We have a small squadron of Assassins and Ninjas that can kill silently, but we would also need a battalion of mages to heal our frontlines and suppress the enemy with long range shots. We need help as soon as you can offer it. Please hurry._

_Muscadet Tactical Advisory _

_Agent Darcey Crowe_

"Great, and here it looked like today was going to be good," Marche said.

"Well, we better head out," Pallanza said.

"Right, get you gear and meet me at the Tower. We'll gather our forces and head out from there." Marche said

_Something tells me that this isn't going to be a quick skirmish, _Marche thought. _I better prepare for the long haul._


	3. Chapter 2: Preparations

**Chapter 2: Preparations**

Littlevili sat on the beach that was about a mile from her home town of Muscadet. She sat on a giant stone about twenty feet high and had one knee brought up so her arm could rest on it. She was twirling a dagger with her other hand. An assassin with a well weighted dagger such as this usually meant several dead bodies, but this time she was just watching. Watching the incoming ships that could very well hold near a thousand soldiers, of what kind she could not say, but she knew this: she wouldn't let them win without a fight.

She heard footsteps coming up from behind her. The dagger fell from her hand and she snatched it from the air and sheathed it in one fell swoop. She leaped down from her perch and turned to the approaching visitor. It was her big sister. "Hey Vili."

"What're you up to?" She asked. She was dressed in the casual wear that most people from Muscadet were accustomed to. The usual woven sandals, a green drape that went from her shoulders to below her knees, a belt, and her bow and quiver.

"Watching them," She said without moving. "I figure they'll be here in less than a day and a half. We should probably get ready whether they're friend or foe."

"I suppose," She put her hands on her hips and lowered her head. She took a deep breath and said, "Well we better get back they're waiting for us."

"I know," She turned to the ships and then started walking back with her sister leaving the sandy beaches and warm sun behind her.

* * *

Marche walked up to his room. He lived in the East wing of the Judges 'base' near Bervenia Palace. He opened a chest near the end of his bed that had all of his equipment in it. He pulled out his sword, Nagrarock. This sword was made by a very accomplished blacksmith that lived in Sprohm. His name was Gill. He pulled out his pair of boots that were laced with golden linen. He put on his Bracers and flexed his fingers, a perfect fit. He pulled his armor that had stones and rubies lining the edges. He swung his judge cloak over his shoulders and snapped them shut, making what looked like a white cape. He belted his sword on his left side and a knife on the right. He picked up his iron helm and let it rest on his side with his arm. He turned the knob and walked out of his room.

His friend Cheney was waiting outside his room, resting on the opposite side of the wall. "Ready?" He asked

"Yes, let's go," Marche replied. They walked down the long hall and turned right. They reached the door and walked out. "We have to travel to Cadoan Academy before we leave for Muscadet, but first let's meet up with Pallanza at the Tower."

They walked towards the Tower. It was an incredibly tall structure for its time. A full twenty stories tall and fifty meters wide, built with Archer holes all the way around and it always had patrols guarding its base while Snipers rested at the top.

Pallanza was resting on the west side of the structure. He leaned off his back when he saw Marche and Cheney coming. He had an iron helm on his head that had an opening near his eyes that slanted down to his nostrils were it curved and did the same on the other side. He was wearing metal gauntlets that covered his fingers and went all the way up to his elbows. He was wearing a pair of combat boots with metal shin guards. His torso was covered by a thick layer of bronze armor. His shoulders were covered with a ring that had three spikes on each that was attached to his torso armor. He had a small knife belted at his side along with a sword. In his right hand he was holing a gigantic spear with a small piece of red cloth just below its blade. He also had a pouch that was filled with potions on his left hip.

"Took long enough," he said.

"Well, let's go," Cheney said. He threw his bow over his shoulder along with his quiver. They walked over to the Chocobo stable that was on the east side of the Tower and unlatched three of them. Pallanza had to have the biggest one because of all his armor. They made sure that their saddles were on correctly and then they departed.

They rode for about an hour before they came to the academy in the countryside. It was four stories tall with a full fifty acres for training grounds.. As they reached the entrance to the academy they latched their Chocobos to a wooden pole and patted them on the head. Pallanza scratched his Chocobos ears and it let out a small squeal of delight. They entered the front doors and saw students walking around talking about upcoming exams, tests, and simple competitions between classmates. They walked down long corridors fro about five minutes before their destination. Cheney was looking around in wonderment the whole way. When he was younger he went here for two years, and they renovated it since then.

Pallanza entered a room and a High Mage was sitting at the desk in the middle of the room. Cheney was ecstatic. He immediately recognized the man sitting at the desk but he still managed to maintain his composure.

The man looked up and little yellow eyes peeked out from behind his large pointy hat and his jacket that covered most of his face. "Can I help you?" He leaned back in his chair wondering who his visitors were.

"Yes," Marche said as a reply. "I'm Judgemaster Marche; these are my counterparts Pallanza and Cheney."

The man nodded to Cheney, "Nice to see you again."

"You too, Zeke," Cheney said to his old principal.

"Is there something that I can help you with Judgemaster?" Zeke asked.

"Yes," he said. "An unknown force could possibly be invading Muscadet in a few days. The only thing we ask for are some of your older students to assist us in this."

"And how many are you asking?"

"We require four hundred warriors for the frontlines and perhaps three hundred mages to heal and attack from a safe distance."

"Hmmm," Zeke put his hand on his chin and started rubbing it with his finger. "I think I can arrange that. There are sure to be plenty of upperclassman that will be willing to test out their skills that they have acquired while they have been enrolled here. Who knows, maybe you'll get more than you asked for. Feel free to rest in one of our spare barracks while I make an announcement."

"Alright," Marche said. He stood up and shook Zeke's hand, "thank you for your assistance."

"My pleasure," He said. "Please, follow me."

They all walked down the corridors and up a flight of stairs. Marche heard Pallanza grunt in dismay. It was no wonder too. He undoubtedly felt extremely out of place. He stood at least a full foot and a half taller than anyone he'd seen yet and took up a rather large amount of space.

"Pallanza," Zeke said as he looked up at him. "You are free to go outside with the other Bangaa and help them train if you like. There session should be over in about half an hour."

"Thanksss anywayssss," He said, "but I'll just ssstay here."

"Very well," He said. "Please feel free to have a look around while I go gather some of participants." He walked down the staircase and disappeared from site.

"I don't know about you too, but I'm gonna take a quick nap," Marche said as he looked at his two companions.

"I'll take that advissse," Pallanza said as he entered his room. Marche heard the loud _thud_ that came when he fell on his bed. Marche and Cheney both did the same. Marche closed his eyes and quickly fell into a deep slumber

* * *

Littlevili and her sister entered the gates of Muscadet. People were frantically getting their stuff ready to leave the city. Countless others had already left with some caravans and merchants. Others however were preparing themselves for the battle that would possibly ensue. They were gathering as many weapons as possible, putting them in crates, stashing them in bags, anything they could find. Some merchants were donating everything they had ranging from potions to armor and weapons.

Littlevili and Vili walked through the crowd of people and came to their house. They started to undress and get on their battle outfits. Littlevili had a katana lying on her bed in its sheath. She put on a black pair of combat boots and a black pair of pants. She strapped a belt around her waist and sheathed two knives, one on each hip. She put on a tight black long sleeve shirt. Then she pulled on a black shirt over it She strapped some vials that contained poison along with some potions to her belt. She had a black scarf with purple string lining the edges. She wrapped it around her neck and pulled it over and under and moved it to her back. She took her katana and tied it to her back. Littlevili pulled on a pair of tight brown gloves. She truly was a fearsome site to behold.

Vili stretched out and then put on a pair of brown boots. She draped a long green cloth with white around its edges over her whole body. It made what appeared to be a dress. She wrapped a big brown belt around her waist and tied a vial of poison and two potions to it. She tied a knife to her side and brought her quiver filled with thirty arrows up to her shoulder. She grabbed her greatbow and wrapped it around her torso.

"Shall we?" Vili asked.

"Let's go," Littlevili responded. They walked out of the house and went to their units that they would be training in the short amount of time.

* * *

"Wake up!"

Marche rose from his slumber and saw Pallanza standing over him.

"Zeke sssaid to meet uss at the training grounds," he said.

"Alright," Marche got off his bed and grabbed his helmet. He followed Pallanza down the stairs and out onto the training grounds. Massive amounts of people were standing in formation out there. Several hundred paladins and defenders, groups of dragoons, as well as black and white mages, along with a small amount of ninjas and assassins. They would be a great help. Zeke and Cheney walked up to Marche.

"We're all ready and accounted for. A full eight hundred troops, when do we leave?" Zeke asked.

"You're coming?" Marche replied.

"Of course," he said. He made a small ball of fire in his palm "You can't expect me to sit out of a good fight do you?"


End file.
